


Being This Godly

by borys



Category: Metalocalypse (Cartoon)
Genre: Character Study, Eating Disorders, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:02:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27429889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borys/pseuds/borys
Summary: The first time Skwisgaar skipped a meal on purpose, he was 16.
Relationships: Nathan Explosion/Skwisgaar Skwigelf, Skwisgaar Skwigelf/Toki Wartooth
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Being This Godly

**Author's Note:**

> don't read this if eating disorders trigger you <3  
> songfic for "oh ana" by mother mother

_i'll be with you still, you are the angel that i couldn't kill_

The first time Skwisgaar skipped a meal on purpose, he was 16.

He doesn’t really know why he did it. He should have been thankful they had food on the table at all, considering that, in some years, that had been a rarity. They had been in a continuing cycle of long term poverty and momentary wealth since his childhood. At that moment, since his mom was dating some sort of snooty businessman, they had money to spend.

But Skwisgaar didn’t want the food. And he went to bed hungry that night. An empty, growling void grew deep in his gut that night, and couldn’t be satiated since.

-

He had always been a “normal” weight. Nobody in his life had probably ever thought twice about it, except for him.

He ended up thinking about it a lot. The less he ate, the more he appreciated that void, the feeling of being hungry. And he noticed that, almost on accident, he was losing weight. It started in his wrists and arms, and eventually travelled all around his body. He poked new holes in his belts.

It was funny, it felt to him like playing the guitar. His hands were creating something sensory. But instead of sound, it was feeling, it was touch. He sat in math class for hours and ran his fingers across his newly-jutting collarbones. He counted each rib, up and down, like the strings of his guitar.

-

He left Sweden as soon as he turned 18.

Nobody in his shitty town wanted to play metal like he did, and he was tired of Sweden in general. So he took all the money he had saved from working and went directly to Tampa, Florida. The sunshine state.

He was flat broke. He barely had enough money to eat, even when he wanted to, so he went from pretty skinny to extremely skinny.

But he liked it. He liked the attention it got him. His new bands always joked that, eventually, he wouldn’t be able to hold up a guitar anymore. Girls that he fucked would refuse to ride him, expressing concerns that they’d break him. 

Whenever anyone said anything like this to him, he’d just smile coyly. He had something they didn’t, that few people did. True self control.  
-

The first person he met from Dethklok was Nathan.

If Skwisgaar was skinny next to most people, he was basically a malnourished corpse next to Nathan. 

He loved it.

They shared a shitty apartment with one bedroom and one bed. They spent most of their time together, besides when they were both at their shitty fast food jobs. He appreciated that Nathan had his same passion for music, and they could practice for up to 5 hours a day together when they had the time.

He didn’t really know when it turned sexual. But it did.

They spent so much time drunk that his memories of this time period faded in and out. But he remembered how Nathan could wrap his hands around his waist with such ease it made him swoon. He remembered how Nathan could pick him up with one arm and how he could toss him around however he wanted. 

They never really talked about what happened, they didn’t even talk during. But Skwisgaar’s best memory was when Nathan growled in his ear, “I bet I could fucking break you in half.”

He had turned into jelly in his hands in that moment, malleable and easy.

\- 

Toki was so fucking annoying.

For a lot of reasons. But one of the important ones, at least for Skwisgaar, is that he made really good snacks.

He had some issues with working technology that was created after 1942, but if the other guys helped him out, he could whip up some good stuff. He could bake really well, much to Skwisgaar’s surprise, and made cakes and pies and cookies every time he could.

It was his way to pay back Nathan and Skwisgaar for letting him sleep on their floor. But Skwisgaar hated it.

He had never really been truly tempted before Toki walked in their door. It didn’t help that, no matter what Toki ate, he never gained weight. It was pretty painful to deny every time. “No” became his favorite word.

But Toki was so damn persistent, and so damn sweet. When Skwisgaar denied his cooking, his eyes would well up and shine and he’d ask if he did something wrong. And Skwisgaar would keep denying, and Toki would keep acting pitiful. This would be protracted over a period of half an hour or so, until Skwisgaar gave in. Because he usually did.

And he would eat way too much. If Toki made cookies, he’d eat 7 where the others ate 2. If he made cake, he'd eat 4 slices where the others ate 1.

This made him miserable. Noticeably so. He would sulk around until Murderface and Pickles left and Nathan and Toki went to bed. Then he would go to the bathroom and stuff his fingers down his throat until he was near-passing out with his face against the toilet seat.

-

He wasn’t as young as he used to be.

He couldn’t run on no food and copious amounts of alcohol for days on end anymore. Especially not when they were touring, and he exerted all of his day's energy on stage. He spent all his time off stage laying in his hotel room or on his tour bus, getting lazy blowjobs or sleeping.

He could tell that the guys were concerned, even if they refused to show it in a fickle show of masculinity. Nathan would grunt at him to join them at bars sometimes, and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Murderface would rib him for being antisocial. Toki would pout outside of his door. Pickles would come in and offer him cocaine, just to try and get him out of bed.

-

Toki was curled up at his side, naked and snoring.

He was really precious. That was what Skwisgaar noticed first about him, years ago. His face was innocent, true. Even when he was asleep, or not speaking. Even when he was on his knees, spit running down his chin.

Skwisgaar wished he had that same quality. Purity. He could chase it all his life if he wanted to. He could nurse the gnawing emptiness of his stomach until he died. But he knew it was a poor replacement. Smoke and mirrors, all for himself.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote and edited this all in the span of 5 hours and it shows lmao. i just wanted to post it


End file.
